


Sweet Coffee And Cheek Kisses

by sgtbuckaroobarnes



Series: T'Chucky Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bucky is a mess, M/M, T'chucky - Freeform, mentally he's pretty okay, physically anyway, t'challa runs a coffee shop and is in love with the mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 12:49:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgtbuckaroobarnes/pseuds/sgtbuckaroobarnes
Summary: Prompt: T'chucky coffee shop au where t'challa is the hella cool barista and bucky is a messy college student





	Sweet Coffee And Cheek Kisses

The man was a mess. Always. T’Challa had never seen such a scruffy, rumpled, messy human in all his life. And he was in college, so that was a little shocking. The man was clearly in college as well, he came into the coffee house with books and his laptop most days. His hair was either pulled up in a messy bun or hanging disheveled, strands tucked behind his ear so that it didn’t hang in his face. He was messy, but he was also nice, one of the nicest people that came into the shop.

He honestly didn’t talk much, not to T’Challa anyway, there was a blonde man that he came in with often that he talked to, but even then, he seemed like more of a listener. But that wasn’t what made him nice. He cleaned up after himself. T’Challa had actually seen him clean up a table that wasn’t his one day. There had been a large line, T’Challa had been working alone that day, like most days, and he watched as this mess of a human had cleaned the cups from his table, and then on his way back from the trash can had stopped in front of an empty table covered in trash. He’d stared at the table for a long time, like he was lost in thought, and then he’d gathered all the trash and thrown it away before collecting his things and leaving. T’Challa was grateful for him that day. People who left their trash for him to clean where the bane of his existence.

Finals week arrived and it only got worse. T’Challa was pretty sure he’d had his shirt on backwards at least twice in the last week. One day it was on inside out. T’Challa didn’t say anything about it. But he did give him a free muffin that day. Covering his kindness by telling him it was promotion they had that day. The man was so out of it he’d just smiled tiredly and raised his cup of coffee in thanks before shuffling off to his usual table.

~**~

The blonde was with him again today. They walked in, the blonde not looking tired at all despite it being the middle of finals. They walked up to the counter, the blonde catching the messy haired man when he stumbled a little and shaking his head.

“I’ll order for us Bucky, if you want to sit down.” The blonde said, patting his friends shoulder. Messy hair shook his head, blinking hard and swaying a little where he stood.

“I’m fine Steve. I just need some coffee and I’ll be fine.” He grumbled, shuffling after Steve as he stepped up to the counter. He ordered their usual, black coffee for the blonde, Steve, and a terrible sugary sweet concoction with four shots of expresso for the messy one, Bucky, apparently. T’Challa always had to fight off a grimace when he ordered his drink. It was terrible, and sometimes he had several of them, T’Challa was getting a little worried, if he was being honest. The men stood there waiting for their order, and Steve ordered a couple muffins for them when T’Challa came back with their drinks.

“My gosh he’s attractive.” Bucky breathed, looking at T’Challa as he set down the muffins. T’Challa felt heat in his cheeks as he looked up at him. They stared at each other and then Steve elbowed Bucky.

“Ow! What?” Bucky gasped, rubbing his ribs and looking at Steve, looking really awake for the first time since they’d walked in. Steve raised his eyebrows at Bucky and Bucky’s eyes looked from Steve to T’Challa and then back.

“Did I say that out loud?” he asked, Steve nodded. Bucky sighed and looked back to T’Challa.

“Sorry. I just…my bad.” He said, reaching forward, his hand covered in smudges of something, and picked up his coffee and muffin.

“Don’t worry about it.” T’Challa said, handing Steve his change and smiling as they walked to their table. He saw Steve smack Bucky’s arm and heard him whisper something and laugh.

“Shut up.” Was all Bucky said back, grumbled really, glancing T’Challa’s way and then hanging his head with a sigh. It had no right to be as charming as it was. He just looked so tired, and a little grumpy with his friend for laughing at him. They didn’t stay as long as usual today. Bucky had a tendency of staying there all day, camped out at his table shuffling papers around, his nose shoved in books as he worked. But today they were there for only about an hour and then they left, Bucky turned at the door and looked back, waving awkwardly over his shoulder when T’Challa caught him looking.

T’Challa smiled to himself and shook his head as the man stumbled out the door. Bucky’s accidental comment playing in his head to keep him calm when irrational customers came in throughout the day. He went home to a house full of roommates who immediately noticed something was different about him, his sisters observation skills had clearly worn off on her girlfriends since they'd moved in. They questioned and teased him until he told them what had happened, how the messy guy he’d been obsessed with, as they put it, had called him attractive. He rolled his eyes at the four ladies he lived with and locked himself in his room, shutting himself away from their loving teases.

~***~

The rain outside was coming down in sheets. T’Challa was sitting on the counter, legs crossed, not expecting anyone to come into the Black Cat Coffee House today. He was reading an article on his phone when the bell above the door rang. He looked up to see none other than the messiest human in the world, shaking an umbrella outside the door and stepping inside. He turned around and froze, his eyes looking around the empty building and then landing on T’Challa.

“You- you are open, right?” Bucky asked, turning to look at the door, checking for the open sign. T’Challa chuckled and he turned back around, his eyes wide, water dripping off of him in places where his umbrella didn’t cover him.

“We’re open. It’s just that no normal person is out in this rain today.” T’Challa said, hopping down from the counter and grabbing a cup.

“You sayin I’m not normal?” Bucky said, his lips pulling up at the edge. T’Challa nodded slowly.

“Yes.” He said bluntly. Bucky laughed. A small thing that burst out of him. It made T’Challa’s skin tingle, he’d never heard him laugh before. It was a good laugh.

“I’ll take it.” Bucky said, shrugging and taking a few steps toward the counter.

“Good. You can take a seat. Same as usual yes?” T’Challa asked, looking over his shoulder to see Bucky nod as he turned toward his table instead of the counter.

“Thanks.” He said quietly, dragging things out of his bag, dropping them on the table, and falling into his chair with a sigh. T’Challa brought him his terrible coffee and a chocolate chip muffin.

“Here you are. Muffin’s on the house.” T’Challa said, smiling down at him. Bucky looked up at him and smiled.

“Another free muffin huh?” he asked, biting his lip as he looked at him. T’Challa swallowed and nodded.

“Yes. A chocolate chip one this time. You didn’t eat much of the blueberry one.” T’Challa said cautiously, letting Bucky know that he had clearly been paying more attention than was strictly necessary.

“Yeah, I have a bit of a sweet tooth, chocolate’s always a better choice.” Bucky said, chuckling and taking a bite of the muffin.

“Oh I’ve noticed, that terrible drink you order makes that quiet obvious.” T’Challa said, Bucky laughed again, almost choking on his mouthful, and shook his head.

“Fair enough.” He said, after he swallowed. T’Challa nodded and smiled a small, crooked smile, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“I’ll leave you to your studying. Good luck.” He said, nodding once and stepping away.

“Oh. Thanks.” Bucky said, smiling and then settling into his seat a bit as he flipped open a book. He took a gulp of his drink and got to work. T’Challa tried not to watch him like a stalker. He scrolled on his phone and glanced at him every now and then, smiling as he watched him scribble something in his notes, his tongue poking out between his teeth.

An hour later he looked over and saw that Bucky was asleep. His head resting on his arm, his pen still in his hand like he’d fallen asleep in the middle of writing. T’Challa smiled, made him another drink, and walked slowly over to the table. He set the drink down gently and touched Bucky’s shoulder.

“Purple’s not a warm color.” He said, breathing in harshly and sitting up abruptly. He blinked sleepy a few times and then looked up at T’Challa. He rubbed his eyes and looked down at the table.

“Oh, hey.” He said, looking back up attempting to smile, it looked more like a grimace. The dark circles under his eyes looked worse than they had when he’d come in, he turned back to the table and picked up his pen. T’Challa reached down and took it, walking to the chair on the other side of Bucky’s table and sitting down.

“I kind of need that.” Bucky said, reaching weakly for his pen. T’Challa nodded and tucked it behind his ear. Bucky dropped his hand and look across the table in confusion.

“What you need, is a break.” T’Challa said. Bucky took a deep breath and then relaxed in his chair, stretching his hands back and yawning. T’Challa did his best to keep his eyes off of the skin of his stomach when the shirt pulled up.

“Yeah okay, you might be right about that.” He said with a sigh, tugging his shirt down absentmindedly and resting his elbows on the table. T’Challa smiled at him.

“Are you an artist?” T’Challa asked, Bucky took a drink and shook his head.

“No. Why?” he asked.

“The smudges on your hands. You were talking about colors when you woke. I just assumed.” He said.

“Oh, that.” Bucky said, looking at his hands, the black smudges were lighter today.

“No that’s oil, and grease, and dirt. I uh, I do mechanic work when I’m not at school. So that I can _pay_ for school. So yeah, not art. I mean, not like, _art_ art. Building and fixing cars can be…art… too. I- I think. A lot of people might not. I’m rambling.” He stammered and then smiled across the table at T’Challa, who was smiling back.

“I think it can be. Things that you love doing often feel like art.” He said. Bucky’s smiled grew, his cheeks turned a deep red and he sighed as he looked at T’Challa.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky said, his voice sounding dreamy like it had the other day.

“Did you mean to say that?” T’Challa asked, smirking at him. His cheeks grew darker and he laughed, looking into his lap.

“Yes. I did mean to say it. But it’s probably good you clarified. And the date would have to wait until my finals are over, or I’d be very likely to fall asleep on you, or run into things but uh, yeah. Would you be interested in- in that? With- with me?” he asked, rubbing his hand against the stubble on his face as he grimaced at himself. T’Challa smiled brightly and laughed at him.

“I’d like that.” He said. Bucky’s eyes widened and he dropped his hand on the table.

“Really? I mean great! And hey, I promise I clean up nice. And I do own a brush. I just, I don’t usually have…time, between work and school. And I pretty much generally don’t care what people think of me, but I uh, I’ll be… dressed… better.” He said slowly, sighing and shaking his head like he wasn’t sure what he’d just said.

“Well that’s a relief. I may not know you very well but I did assume that you’d at least brush your hair for a date.” He said, tilting his head and smirking at him again. Bucky nodded and smiled at him.

“Yeah. I’ll at least do that for you.” Bucky said.

“Oh you don’t have to do it for me. You should do it for yourself.” T’Challa said, his smirk stretching into a bright smile when Bucky snorted.

“I’ll do it for both of us.” Bucky said, picking up a few books and shoving them back in his bag.

“But I think right now. I should probably take a break. Like you said. I should get home. Maybe try and sleep.” He said, shoving the rest of his stuff in his bag and zipping it. He stood up and yawned again. T’Challa yawned across from him and Bucky smiled and pointed at him.

“Sorry about that.” He said, grabbing his umbrella.

“It’s alright. You’ve been busy, yawning happens when you don’t sleep.” He said, walking with Bucky toward the door as thunder rumbled outside.

“That’s true. Do you like working here?” he asked, his hand on the door. T’Challa got the feeling he was stalling.

“I do. My family owns it, so I didn’t have much of a choice. But I got lucky. I really do enjoy it. Some days are better than others though.” T’Challa said, looking at Bucky intently. He gulped and nodded slowly.

“Right. Yeah that’s- that makes sense. I’m glad you like it.” Bucky said awkwardly, nodding and pushing the door open, but only an inch or so.

“Oh, I forgot.” T’Challa said, Bucky let the door fall shut quickly and turned to him, his eyebrows raised. T’Challa reached up and pulled Bucky’s pen from behind his ear, Bucky smiled and reached for it. T’Challa reached past Bucky’s hand and wrapped his fingers around Bucky’s wrist. Bucky narrowed his eyes in confusion but let T’Challa push his sleeve up. He wrote his number carefully across the soft skin of Bucky’s arm, pulling his sleeve back down when he was done and setting Bucky’s pen in the palm of his still outstretched hand. Bucky just stared, blinking slowly as he looked at his arm. T’Challa chuckled and closed Bucky’s hand over his pen. Bucky shook himself and smiled at him.

“Right. Thanks. I’ll um- I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, nodding and pushing the door open, all the way this time.

“See you.” T’Challa said, raising his hand and then taking a step back when Bucky turned and came back inside.

“One more thing.” He said. He leaned forward quickly, pressed his lips to T’Challa’s cheek and then stepped back.

“I just…wanted to do that. Okay. Bye!” he said, sounding a bit frantic as he turned and ran out into the rain.

“Goodbye.” T’Challa whispered, raising his hand to touch his cheek, the ghost of Bucky’s lips filling his face with heat.  

**Author's Note:**

> i don't write t'challa a lot, so i hope i did alright with him. I tried to keep his proper way of talking but also make him jokey and sarcastic like he is! i hope it worked! enjoy!
> 
> edit: this fic has been translated by the super nice TerraBorae on here, into Russian! you can read it that was here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/5766155 Thanks again! I'm still super flattered and blown away that you wanted to translate it! <3


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